


An Old Man Lookin’ for a Good Time

by pastelkanan



Series: {A Series of Dad Dating Adventures} [2]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Fluff, Multi, Other, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:59:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelkanan/pseuds/pastelkanan
Summary: Robert Small is not always the easiest to understand or even be around, but he's getting better. You're happy to be with him while he continues to try to become a better person. And, hey, if there's some kissing along the way, that's a bonus.





	1. The Dover Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You go out with Robert late at night. Hopefully, no demons will try to kill you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said I'd be writing for the other dads and I am a woman of my word! I've spent these past couple days planning out scenes with the boys. I decided to start with Robert. I ended up liking him a lot more than I thought I would???  
> Anyways idk if I did my boy any justice but stick with me here I'm sure I'll get a better grasp on him as time goes on

   You stretch when you get out of the truck. The ride was just as bumpy as you remember it being the last time Robert took you up here. It's been… God, half a year? Six months since Amanda’s graduation party, since the day he told you that he still had some things to figure out before he could get involved in anything romantic with you. Six months since you told him that, if he was ever ready, he knew where to find you.

   Even though there's always been a part of you that has _desperately_ wanted for the process to speed up, for him to come knocking on your door and kiss you as soon as you open it, you like to think you've been a damn good friend. Whenever he needs to talk to someone, needs a drinking buddy, needs to get out of the city and drive and wants some company, you've been there. Because you care about him. Because he's important to you.

   The two of you walk around to sit on the bed of the truck. The lights of the city sparkle in defiance of the forest’s dark shadows. The last time he took you up here was the second time you hung out with him, the night you two saw that… thing. The thing you thought might be the Dover Ghost, the thing you told yourself was just someone illegally dumping their garbage. There's no sign of that thing now.

   Robert hasn't said anything for fifteen minutes. You try not to stare; you wonder if he's going to start whittling again, if maybe he's coming up with some awful story meant to mess with you, or if maybe he really does just want someone to sit and look at the city with. You're content with whatever his motivations are. This time, you aren't afraid he's going to stab you and harvest your internal organs. You've gotten mostly used to his… uh, humor? He still gets you sometimes. The guy has watched one _too_ many war documentaries. His mind is a weird place, but God, he's still so… you aren't sure what the word is. Entrancing? That sounds lame. Interesting? That's better, but it doesn't really take everything about him into consideration. You repress a sigh. Is it even possible to describe him as anything other than, like, a rugged lone wolf? That's basically what he is.

   “Hey, Robert?” you ask. “Are you a werewolf?”

   He looks at you. His face is unreadable. He nods once and said, “Yes. I'm a werewolf and I'm building up your trust so I can bring you out here under a full moon and eat you alive.”

   “Called it,” you say. “I haven't stopped eating junk food, you know. I've never stopped preparing for the day you inevitably kill me to get something from my corpse. You're gonna regret it.”

   He shrugs. “I'm not picky. Dead flesh is dead flesh, buddy.”

   You laugh. “Might not think so after you've bitten into this mess.” You yelp and jump when he suddenly leans over and nips at your ear. “Whー?!”

   He's the one laughing now, tilting his head back and holding his stomach. “You can be pretty cute, you know that?” he says between laughs. “That was great. I don't regret it one bit.”

   You hold your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. You know you're blushing like hell. What even was that? You've, admittedly, come pretty close to sleeping with him a couple times, but there’s always been a specific kind of _mood_ when that happens. This just… came out of _nowhere._ God. He's too much. “That was mean,” you whine. “The hell, man?”

   He continues to grin. “Ah, don't mind me. I'm just an old man lookin’ for a good time.”

   “You aren't _old_ ,” you say. You let go of your ear and hope he doesn't attack again. He really went all the way with that werewolf gag, didn't he?

   “Well, I ain't young,” he replies. “Haven't been for a few years now.”

   “Don't worry about it. You're fine.” You won't take your eyes off of him now that he's bitten you. Maybe he's waiting for you to turn into a werewolf, too. “You, uh, you look really good. So it's not a big deal.”

   “Mmm. Always knew you were hopelessly attracted to me.”

   You roll your eyes and let silence descend. When he makes no move to bite you again, you look back out over the city. You're hit with a sudden wave of loneliness. You have good friends, sure, but you remember that your house is empty. Amanda isn't home anymore. You didn't think having an empty nest would be as hard as it is. You trust her and you know she's a good kid and she’s okay out there, but… you're never gonna stop worrying about her. She's your little girl. She's been texting you and sending you pictures all the time, but it just isn't the _same_ as having her at home.

   While you and Amanda have been growing slightly apart as she makes her way in the world, Robert and Val have been making amends. From what you understand, their relationship is still a bit rocky, but they've been making it work. There's been more visits, more phone calls. And, unlike that night when he told you about her and how his wife died and all of that, he doesn't cry when he talks about her. He even smiles more often. He's doing surprisingly well these days, and, God, it's so nice to see him happy. He doesn't just sit around and wallow in misery and regret. He doesn't drink as much as he used to. Hell, he even showers every single day. If that isn't progress, nothing is.

   You hear him shifting beside you. You look over, ready to defend your ear if need be, but he doesn't look poised to attack. He's reaching into his jacket. Probably to pull out a knife or something. You're pretty sure that he isn't going to harvest your organs, at least not this time, so you aren't overly concerned.

   He takes out a piece of wood, already whittled down into a little figure. You still don't know how he keeps so much stuff in that jacket, but that thought is put on hold the when he hands the figure to you. You're about to ask what it is when you realize that it looks an awful lot like what Robert said the Dover Ghost looked like that time when he was messing with you that first time you came out here. You smile.

   “This is really cool, wow,” you say, looking over at him. He's still looking out over the city, though you can tell he's wearing an expression he doesn't normally wear. “Thanks for showing me. Sorry I made fun of whittling that one time.”

   He shakes his head. “That happened awhile ago. Don't worry about it. And I made it for you. It's a gift.”

   A… gift? You feel your face heating up. “Really? You actually made this for me?”

   “Yeah,” he says. “I… look, I'm not really good at this kind of thing. I brought you out here to say that I'm just about as good as I'm gonna get. I've still got feelings for you, you know. You said that if I was ever ready for more than friendship, I'd know where to find you. I'd like to take you up on that if the offer’s still open.”

   You struggle to keep your jaw from dropping. Is this really happening? Finally? _Finally_? “Are you serious or are you messing with me?”

   He looks over at you. “I'm serious as death. I wouldn't mess with you about this.” He leans closer, voice low and attractive. “So are we gonna do this or not?” He doesn't smell like whiskey the way he used to; now he's all leather and cologne. God… ugh, God, he smells good.

   You find yourself inching closer to him. You swallow hard and nod. “Absolutely,” you say. “I'd love that. I've been waiting for you.”

   You aren't sure if he's grinning or smirking, but it's, well, really hot. Also a little intimidating. But mostly hot. The next thing you're aware of is his lips against yours, one of his calloused hands cupping your face. You manage to keep your wits about you long enough to set the wood carved Dover Ghost to the side before you're going all in, moaning softly and losing track of time. You're pretty sure this might be the first night you sleep with him.

   You are _incredibly_ okay with that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :3c


	2. The Laughter of Lewis Crypt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Robert have a nighttime exploring session.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way way way longer to post than I meant for it to lmao I hope its still decent idk

   You step out from under the cover of the trees and find yourself standing in the cemetery. The moon is high above you, full and round and bright. There isn't a single cloud to block it out. After spending all of your nights at home asleep, you're a bit surprised to find out that the moon shines so brightly. You briefly squint at the sudden change in lighting. 

   Robert stands a few feet ahead of you, surveying the landscape like he's going to see something other than tombstones. You remember the time the two of you made up that stupid ass story to mess with the guide of that walking ghost tour. That had been really fun. You wish you had worn that T-shirt you got from it, but no, you're just wearing regular clothes. At… midnight. Roughly. You don't know exactly what time it is, but it's way too late. Well, at least you don't have to worry about waking up Amanda when you get back home. Assuming you go back to your own place. You've been spending increasingly fewer nights there by yourself; if you don't go to your house, you're at Robert’s, and if he doesn't go to his own house, he's saying at yours. It's  _ really _ nice. He's been an empty nester for a good long while now and this is your first and only empty nest experience, so having him close is a blessing. 

   He looks over his shoulder at you. “Hey. You coming?”

   You nod and walk to his side. “I, uh, thought we were just looking for cryptids in the woods tonight. Didn't know we’d be snooping around the cemetery.”

   “Are you scared?”

   “What? N-No. I mean, I'm fine. It's only the cemetery. I just, y'know, didn't know we'd be stopping by here.”

   He reaches out and grabs your hand. There's a hint of mischief in his voice when he says, “Just stay close, babe. I'll keep you safe.”

   You can't help but feel safe with him. You go with him, walking among the tombstones by the light of the moon. Robert never uses flashlights for cryptid hunting since they're  _ too bright _ , so he only uses a small lighter when he needs it. On a clear night like this, though, he leaves the lighter in his pocket. It was even rather light in the woods, the moonlight strong enough to cut through the leaves and illuminate a sort-of path. 

   “So… what are we looking for, exactly?” you ask. 

   “Anything suspicious. I've heard rumors about somethin’ skulking around out here. I'm gonna find it.”

   Of course. There's always something skulking around as far as Robert is concerned. He's convinced that Damien is actually a vampire and Joseph is some kind of demon. Like, you can understand the whole  _ Damien is a vampire  _ suspicion, but  _ Joseph is a demon _ ? That seems a little far fetched. But Robert has lived around here longer than you have, so maybe he knows some deep dark secrets about the guy. His life probably isn't all pastels and boats. 

   A sudden gust of wind catches you off guard. The wind carries a sound with it, a sound like… laughing? Oh,  _ hell _ no. This is not what you signed up for. Weird laughing in the cemetery in the middle of the night? No. No, nope, nada, not today Satan, not today. You grip Robert’s hand a little tighter. There's an insane light in his eyes. You resign yourself to your fate. This place will be your doom. A demon is literally going to come out of the ground and murder you. Great. Wonderful. What a way to go.

   He starts to lead you towards the sound instead of away from it and your heart pounds in your chest. This is crazy. “Is there, like… a demon around here?”

   “They're calling it the Laughter of Lewis Crypt. I didn't come up with the name, so don't start laughing at me. There's a mausoleum crypt towards the back of the cemetery. The Lewis family died in a home robbery gone wrong. The family was filthy rich, so they were a good target.” You feel like you should be concerned about this, by both the way those people died and how much Robert seems to know about this. Does he… make a habit of knowing all of this stuff? God. You can't resist as he pulls you along; morbid curiosity and Robert’s strength keep you moving. “The little girl had been playing with her dolls when those people broke in and killed the family. She was having fun. The three of them, her and her parents, were put in the family crypt. They say that sometimes laughter will come from the crypt, like the little girl is still playing with her dolls and doesn't realize she's dead. I've never heard it before now. I've been looking forward to this.”

   “You're crazy,” you mutter. If he heard you, he's electing to ignore that statement. On one hand, this is all kind of fascinating. Robert isn't usually a man of many words, but when he gets started in on cryptidsーlocal like this  _ Laughter of Lewis Crypt _ or internationally recognized; it doesn't matter where the story comes fromーhe's almost like a different person. A person with a fire lit inside of him, a weird joy in his eyes, and a possibly life-threatening desire to discover the truth of the creatures that humans haven't gotten their hands on yet. Some of his favorite things to watch on TV are documentaries about people who encountered something particularly  _ odd.  _ You've watched a good few with him. 

   You've also come to trust him when he says that, “ _ x _ isn't a real thing.” Mothman usually fills in the place of  _ x.  _ Other than Mothman, he's pretty open minded when it comes to cryptids. He even has a personal favorite aside from the Dover Ghost. He doesn't like to admit it because it's typical and cliché and all of those things, but he's a sucker for Bigfoot. He  _ really _ wants to find a Bigfoot one day.

   You arrive at the Lewis family crypt and kind of regret being born. The door, wood with steel reinforcements, is slightly ajar. From somewhere beyond that, from somewhere in the shadows of the crypt, there's sound. Scuffling. More laughter. Like something is… moving. 

   Robert slowly opens the door. He pulls his lighter out of his pocket and lights it, the small flame the only way you can see a foot in front of you in this place. Why are you even going down here with him? God, you really wish you had just stayed outside and waited for him. But that would be wrong. You couldn’t just send him down to face demons on his own. 

   Well, you could, but you wouldn't be able sleep very well afterwards.

   It's cold down here. You've always heard that it's colder underground, what with the total and complete lack of sunlight, but you feel like an underground hole might be a bit warmer than an underground stone tomb. You simultaneously wish that the lighter offered more light and that it didn't offer any light at all so you wouldn't have to see the massive cobwebs hanging in the corners. 

   For being in a local cemetery, this place is surprisingly big. The two of you walk slowly, as quietly as possible, trying to sneak up on the source of the noise. He suddenly takes his finger off of the lighter, plunging you back into darkness. You're about to ask why he did that, but then you see it. A faint glow around a corner. Oh,  _ hell _ no. 

   And yet, you still keep following Robert. Well, maybe that's an overstatement. You're mostly hanging on him, desperately clutching his left arm as you walk. Okay, maybe that's an overstatement too. It's more like a shuffle than a walk. You don't have the heart for this stuff. 

   You see it. There are a few lit candles, and in the middle of their flickering light is… a tape recorder? Yep, that’s an old Walkman. You sigh, feeling stupid for ever being worried in the first place. “Really?” you find yourself asking. But what was that scuffling noise? A rat? God, please, it better not have been a rat.

   Robert walks over and picks up the Walkman and ejects a tape. “ _ Laugh Track _ .” He groans, holding it up so you can read those two words written in ugly handwriting. “Someone left this here to mess with people. I can think of a few brats who might’ve done this. I bet it was Hugo’s kid.”

   You can’t help but laugh a little. “Wouldn’t surprise me. What do we do now, though?”

   Robert puts the Walkman back where he found it without putting the tape back in. “Find a new cryptid or hunt down a new urban legend. Something fun. You’ve still got some of that wild in you, don’t you?”

   You nod. “Absolutely.”

   He grabs your hand and leads you up and out of the crypt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I'm a dork and also I love Robert


	3. The Spirit of Hawaiian Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robert drops in for a late-night snack and some bad TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't care what any of you think ok I had Hawaiian pizza for the first time awhile back and it was awesome I have firmly planted myself on the Pro Pineapple on Pizza side of the debate

   You had honestly been a bit skeptical the night you hung out with Robert and got pizza with him for the first time. The moment he ordered pineapple pizza for the both of you, your heart had just about stopped dead in its tracks. That was very dangerous territory. You, personally, had never had a strong opinion either way. You had more important concerns than if people ate pineapple pizza or not; not burning your house down while cooking because you, realistically, can't survive on nothing but fast food was one of those concerns. And that concern didn't factor in pineapple pizza anywhere, so. No big deal. 

   When he had ordered those pizzas and looked back at you and asked if you were okay with it, you went with your gut instinct and said yes. He wouldn't have  _ ordered  _ Hawaiian pizza if he didn't like it or expected you to hate it, so you knew you'd look like a huge jerk if you were like, “No, that's disgusting and you're wrong, pineapple does not belong on pizza.” A part of you had been afraid that you wouldn't like it and you'd have to force yourself to eat the pizzaーyou, admittedly, hadn't had pineapple on pizza since you were much younger, in college, and went to a pizza buffet with Craigーbut you were pleasantly surprised. The mix of the sauce and cheese, the thinly sliced Canadian bacon, the little pineapple chunks… it was way better than you had remembered it being. 

   And you had said that pineapple was the best pizza topping. It had been a bit of an exaggeration, sure, but it felt like the right thing to say in the moment. Robert had smiled and agreed with you. Since then, the two of you have gotten that pizza together quite a few times. It really has grown on you. You didn't think you'd ever  _ actually _ enjoy it the way you do, but, well, when you're with him, you enjoy a lot of things you might not have otherwise enjoyed. 

   He had that kind of effect. You had even grown somewhat used to him showing up at your door late at night, inviting you to go cryptid hunting even though you need sleep. Among his list of personal improvements he’s made, he’s gotten better at sleeping at night, but he’s still a bit of an insomniac. Says that going out there and looking around for cryptids helps him calm down. You aren’t sure  _ how _ that works, but hey, to each their own. It’s probably fine. He seems to function just fine, all things considered. He’s not perfect, of course; he still doesn’t sleep enough, he still smokes occasionally, and even though he’s cut way back, you know he still takes a drink once in awhile. But he’s better. 

   You yawn. You’re lying on the couch, munching on some popcorn and watching  _ Toddler Playhouse Hunters: Tri-State Edition _ . Just like the name suggests, these parents are so desperate to find the perfect playhouse for their kids that they’re searching a bunch of stores in their state and two others. A little blonde haired girl is stomping her foot and crying, saying, “It’s too small! They’re all too small! I want a mansion!”

   The girl’s mother looks desperately at the person who is getting paid way too much to try to help find a playhouse for a little kid. What even is this show? Why does this exist? Why are you watching it? So many questions, and yet, so few answers. You sigh in relief when the show cuts to a commercial break. This show is… lord. Exploiting bratty young children for entertainment is always fun, sure, but you’ve reached the conclusion that they really will make a house hunting show about  _ anything _ . 

   You’re about to doze off to the sound of a commercial to  _ yet another _ house hunting show when there’s a sudden knock at the front door. It’s a miracle your bowl of popcorn hasn’t fallen to the floor, considering you almost fell asleep with it on your lap and then nearly jumped out of your own skin when the knocking started. You put the bowl on the coffee table and make your way to the door. You don’t bother wondering who’s on the other side. Who else would it be at almost midnight?

   Robert is standing on your porch when you open the door. “Hey. You busy?”

   You shake your head and stand to the side, inviting him inside without words. “Nah. What’s up? What’s in the pizza box? I hope it’s pizza.”

   He doesn’t hesitate to make himself comfortable, plopping down on the couch and putting the box on the table next to your popcorn as you close the door. He opens the box with as grand a flourish as he can manage without standing up again. 

   You gasp in a joking kind of surprise. “Really?” you ask. “A  _ whole _ pizza? For me?” Until now, the two of you have mostly lived on single slices; neither of you can be trusted with a whole pizza.

   He nods, grinning as he pats the couch beside him. You join him on the couch. “For  _ us _ , babe. For us.”

   “Aww. I’m so happy. I can’t believe you did this for us. It’s even Hawaiian. You’re so sweet.”

   Robert laughs and wraps an arm around you. “Yeah, I know. Sweet as sugar, aren’t I?”

   “Absolutely,” you confirm, less than seriously. He’s obviously not an overly sweet individual, but hey, you still love him. Wait, what? You love him? Seriously? Are you really in love with him? Ah, hell. Looks like it. You ended up falling for him at some point or another. Well, no harm done. There are worse people to love. Still… you think you’ll keep it to yourself for a little while longer. You don’t want to rush into anything with him. He’s the kind of person you have to be patient with.

   He grabs the remote and starts flipping through the channels. “How can you watch this stuff?” he asks. “I like seeing kids cry as much as the next guy, but isn’t this one kinda… stupid?”

   “It’s awful. I don’t know why I watch this stuff.”

   “I knew it.” He stops flipping on a channel you’ve never really paid much attention to. “Let’s watch this.”

   The information tab says that this show is called  _ Ghosts of the South _ . As one would expect, it appears to be about hauntings in the southern states. Robert grabs a slice of pizza from the box, leans back, and starts eating. You follow his lead. After a few bites, you ask, “So. What brings you here on this fine night?”

   “Thought it’d be fun to come watch bad TV and eat pizza with you.”

   “That’s pretty boring by your standards.”

   “Guess so. You’ve softened me, kid. How dare you. I used to be cool.”

   You laugh. “Eh, don’t worry. You’re still cool.”

   He grins. Your heart skips a beat. He’s so beautiful. “Thanks, babe. You’re cute.”

   You tear your gaze away from him and look back at the TV. Are they… in a pizza joint? You take another bite of your slice. They are definitely talking about ghosts in that pizza place. “Did you do this on purpose?” you asked. “The pizza and the show about ghosts in a pizza place, I mean.”

   He shakes his head, looking mildly surprised now that he’s realized it, too. “I had no idea. I just like to watch this show sometimes. I guess it was meant to be.”

   “I feel like there’s a joke here about ghosts and pizza that I just can’t see.”

   “Probably. I guess… Hawaiian ghosts?”

   “The  _ spirit _ of Hawaii?”

   “The spirit of Hawaiian pizza.”

   You smile. “I like it. Let’s go with that.”

   He holds out the remainder of his slice. You roll your eyes and tap your slice against his. “Cheers,” he says, returning the pizza to where it belonged: His mouth. You, of course, do the same. You really get the feeling that this is going to be a good night.

   Then again, every night you spend with him is a good one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Hawaiian pizza and I love Robert b y e

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about dads over at twitter.com/pastelkanan


End file.
